


The Spy Who Seduced Me (and the Captain Who Helped)

by myhappyplace



Series: The Care and Feeding of Supersoldiers - Collection [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (though the author isn't a fan of that term), Blow Jobs, Bucky is using a cover identity for Reasons, Cisgender Female Reader, Consensual Sex, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingering, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Opposite of slowburn, Oral Sex, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert, Sexual Tension, Spitroasting, Stand Alone, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, Winter Setting, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:46:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24879421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myhappyplace/pseuds/myhappyplace
Summary: When you decided to stay in a remote mountain cabin all winter, you knew there would be risks, but you didn't expect two injured men to show up on your cabin porch. And you certainly didn't expect so much flirting.Though part of a series, this story can be enjoyed without reading the first part.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Series: The Care and Feeding of Supersoldiers - Collection [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697221
Comments: 34
Kudos: 172





	The Spy Who Seduced Me (and the Captain Who Helped)

You wake slowly with no rush to start the day. Your cocoon of warm blankets convinces you to stay longer, enough that you fall in and out of sleep for another hour. You listen to the soft patters of snowflakes on the glass window next to your bed, accompanied by the whistling of wind finding its way through the tiny holes scattered throughout the cabin walls. But after enough time lying awake without opening your eyes, you decide to get out of bed, and you sit up and pull back the curtains on the bedside window to check the weather and get a general idea of time. The sky is bright enough to give the clouds a glow, so you know it must be mid-morning, and you can see the forest at the edge of the clearing around the cabin through the quickly falling snowflakes. 

The amount of snowfall is concerning, though you’d be more worried if you had plans to leave the cabin. Last night as the sun set, deep gray clouds built in the eastern sky, tall enough that you could see them over the mountains that block most of your view beyond the surrounding forest. Over a foot of snow fell as you slept, and you wonder how much more will fall today. 

With a deep breath, you summon the willpower to leave the warmth of your blankets so you can start the fire on the other side of the cabin, which will also let you start the hot water for your coffee and breakfast. The promise of coffee helps you push back the covers and slip your feet into warm slippers on the side of the bed.

Your body shivers as you walk across the room, and it feels like no matter how many layers you have on, you’ll never be able to defeat the relentless, wild cold of the mountain forest. It only took one night without an appropriate number of layers before you learned to wear a minimum of long-johns, stretchy pants and a henley, and a thick cable-knit sweater large enough that it hangs below your bottom. There have been days when you’ve even considered wearing a sweatshirt under the sweater, but instead you throw another log on the fire.

A fire begins to grow in the homely fireplace, enough that you can boil water in the kettle and get one step closer to your coffee. Hopefully the caffeine and a full stomach will help your brain push past the writer’s block that stumped you yesterday. You’ve come to this remote cabin in the middle of the mountains to let the solitude and environment fuel your productivity, and you’re here for the whole winter. After a month of work, you are proud of what you have accomplished so far, but yesterday was the third consecutive day that had ended with a block, and it’s difficult to keep the frustration from bleeding into today. You grab the hot kettle and pour water over some quick oats to make breakfast before using the rest for your coffee. All that’s left is a sprinkle of nuts and brown sugar and you will have one less excuse to keep you from writing.

During the few minutes you take to eat breakfast, you gaze out the window, admiring the landscape surrounding your temporary residence. The cabin sits in a small clearing, and you imagine that the ground is covered with wild grasses and flowers in the warmer months, but today it’s all white, blanketed with snow. The snow is already falling faster and thicker since when you checked from the window next to your bed. 

You tell yourself you can have one more minute of window-watching, even though you are already starting to think about how you’ll write the transition from one scene to the next, when you are snapped from your thoughts by movement in the trees. You’ve seen many large animals while you’ve been here: a mountain lion, a small herd of deer, and even a moose. The snow makes it difficult to differentiate at first, but between one moment and the next, your heart jumps as you see the shape of two people form. You haven’t seen another person for over a month, and though you are a little lonely, this isn’t how you wanted to end your solitude. Your stomach drops as they enter the clearing, headed straight for your front door.

When you packed it, you didn’t actually think you’d _use_ the shotgun propped against the wall next to the door, but you’re very glad for it now, especially since you are broadcasting your presence with the smoke you know to be coming from the top of your chimney, generated by the now-roaring fire.

At least the cabin will be warm while you are murdered. 

You watch through the gauzy curtains on the front window as the two individuals get closer, and you hold the shotgun to your body and prepare yourself, taking deep breaths. One of them is limping, partially carried by the other. It’s only when the two figures reach the porch that you can finally tell that they’re men, they’re _very large_ men, and one of them has some sort of large disc on his back.

_Thump thump thump!_

"Hello?" You hear from a deep voice, slightly muffled by the wall separating you from them. "I’m sorry to impose on you like this, but my companion is injured and we’ve been walking all night. We just need a place to warm up and bandage ourselves, and then we’ll be on our way."

You hold your breath. He sounds genuine, but how can you just trust the sound of his voice? You shift your gun, and his face snaps to the window. You freeze, hesitating to even take a breath.

"Please," he begs, looking at the window. He isn’t looking _directly_ at you, but he's unsettlingly close. "I know this is asking for a lot of trust." He shifts his hold on the other man who moans in pain, then pulls the disc off his back and turns it to the window. It’s Captain America’s shield… what? You move to the door and slide open the peep hatch.

Well, that certainly looks like Captain America’s handsome face, if a little more banged up and red from the cold.

"I have a gun," you say with the most intimidating tone you can muster, "and I’ll protect myself if I need to."

"I don’t want you to have a need to."

You pause; you weren’t expecting that answer and are unsure how to maintain control of the situation. "How can I trust you?"

"Whatever you need us to do to help you trust us, we’ll do that." He smiles in a way where one side of his mouth goes a little higher than the other and he doesn’t show any teeth. His eyes are wide and eyebrows lifted, questioning and hopeful. 

"Can you tell me your names?"

His smile grows a little wider. "I’m Captain Steve Rogers, and this is Agent James Proctor," he says and slightly lifts the man he's practically carrying.

" _The_ Steve Rogers?"

"Yes, ma’am. The shield is as genuine as my plea for help."

Your cabin is by no means a fortress; if they wanted to get in, they could. This was the risk you took when you decided to stay in the remote wilderness all alone. 

And there are worse strangers to happen upon your doorstep than Captain America.

"Okay," you say, and you see his relief in the way his shoulders relax. "Would you mind waiting outside for a moment? I’ll go get the first aid kit and bring it back here. Won't take me longer than a minute."

"Of course."

You set the shotgun against the door and head towards the bath area where you keep the first aid kit. There’s a tub that drains directly out the back of the cabin and a wash basin, but no toilet. (There’s no running water in the cabin at all. It has been an…adjustment.) You’ve got a well-stocked first aid kit; knowing that you’d be alone for so long, you made sure to prepare for the worst. Not that you had anticipated using the supplies on anyone else, because as of five minutes ago, you never would have considered letting anyone — let alone two strange men! — into your cabin while you are isolated from the world. 

_What are you doing?!_ your mind shouts as you walk back across the main room.

You place the first aid kid on the table next to the door. You think for a moment then open the hatch again. "When you come in, you can sit your companion at the chair next to the door. And could you take off your coat once you're inside? I’ve got a fire going so it’s warm."

"I will."

You undo all of the latches on the door with the shotgun still held under one arm, and slowly pull the door open. It’s heavy and effective at staying shut and keeping the cold out. You peer around the door as the Captain leans inside, looking for your final approval before stepping in. Snow blows in from behind him, and he carries Agent Proctor over the threshold, who grunts and grips his side. 

There’s an instinct in you to help, to start unpacking the first aid kit and patching up an injured person, but instead you watch as the Captain follows your directions flawlessly. He gently sets Agent Proctor into the chair, and once he can tell that Agent Proctor won’t fall over, he takes off his large coat, shakes it over the mat at the front door, then lays it over the back of the chair opposite Agent Proctor at the small table.

As the Captain removes Agent Proctor’s coat, you are distracted by the Captain’s body. You would have expected him to become smaller and less bulky without the huge coat, but his overall size doesn’t lessen much with its loss: his shoulders are very broad and his biceps look strong as he kneels in front of Agent Proctor to hold his face, checking his eyes for consciousness. Agent Proctor has long brown hair that is pulled back into a sloppy bun with strands falling into his face and sticking to the skin, likely from a combination of both sweat and snow. He’s got a few scratches on his cheeks, but that doesn’t take anything away from how handsome he is. _Pretty_. His features are defined, from his cheekbones to his brow over his eyes and the sharp slope of his nose. The only thing that takes away from his beauty is the grimace on his face as the Captain lifts Agent Proctor’s shirt to clean his wound.

The Captain, Steve, turns to you, eyes the gun still under your arm, and asks, "Would you be able to heat up some water?" and his eyes dart from the gun, to you, then to the kitchenette on the side of the main room. 

You hesitate, but not for very long. "Sure," and you walk over to grab the kettle, looking over your shoulder as you go. Steve makes eye contact for a moment, then returns his focus to Agent Proctor. 

Agent Proctor winces and hisses as Steve continues to patch him up, but he takes a breath through his nose and keeps a stone face as the remainder of it is dressed. 

"Cap," he says quietly, but not so quietly that you can’t hear him. His voice is gruff and deep. "We gotta teach her how to hold a gun properly."

Steve huffs a laugh, "Let’s focus on you first. You’re a bit terrifying at the moment with all this blood. Don’t blame her for being scared of your scruffy mug."

"Mug," Agent Proctor says, a little deliriously. "We got ourselves a regular ol’ Jimmy Stewart here." 

"God, you’re the worst," Steve mutters, without stopping his careful tending to Agent Proctor’s injuries.

You stand to the side, watching and feeling uncertain. You worry about what would happen if you let your guard down, but what chance do you have against Captain America and a secret agent? 

Agent Proctor pulls you out of your thoughts. "She’s pretty cute, huh, Cap?"

"James," Steve warns. 

You flush. 

_James_ grins at Steve. "Yeah, you think so too, don’t you." He looks over at you, "Cap thinks you’re cute, angel."

Your cheeks get even warmer. You adjust the shotgun under your arm and feel silly for continuing to hold it, so you go back over to the door and set it down where you had picked it up originally. 

You walk over to where they both are and stand a little outside of arm’s reach, shifting your weight from foot to foot, wanting to be helpful but feeling a little lost. "Can I get you anything else? Will he be okay?"

"Just about done," Steve says. "He’ll be fine. Much better now that we’re warm and resting."

"Speak for yourself," James says.

Steve squeezes the bandages a little roughly, and when James hisses again in pain, Steve says, "Serves you right for jumping in front of that knife."

"Saved you though."

"Reckless idiot."

"Rude."

Steve ignores James and looks back up to you. "We’ll be out of your hair as soon as possible. I know we’ve already asked for a lot."

It _was_ a lot at first, but you’re starting to realize just how lonely it’s been without any human contact for so long. You like interacting with people again.

"It’s— if you wanted to—" you’re unsure how to ask them to stay longer. "Would you like some food first?"

Steve looks at you for a moment. "Are you sure?"

"I am. Would you feel comfortable with that? Eating a stranger’s food?"

"Well, trust goes both ways. If you can trust us in your home, we can trust your cooking."

"'Fraid it won’t be much, just some cured meats and aged cheese on some bread. Though the bread was made yesterday."

"Better than the shitty rations we’ve been eating for the past day in the snow," James mutters.

"Not like I could make you a five-course meal while we were sloughing through the woods in the dead of night."

"Yeah, yeah."

You walk away to the kitchenette as they bicker. 

As you grab items from the shelves and the small cooler that holds all your perishables, you keep peeking glances at them, unable to stop your curiosity for these men who are so much different than yourself.

James catches you looking each time and reacts in a different way for every look: a lift of his eyebrows, a growing smile, a wink…you aren’t sure what to do with the attention, but that doesn’t stop you from looking back again.

You hear Steve mutter to James, "Would you stop being so goddamn predatory? She’s not one of your marks."

James looks over at you, a little deflated. "Sorry, angel. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable."

You shake your head and blush. "It’s, um, surprising, but not unwelcome."

James smiles at you, his brightest yet, and then looks back at Steve with a smug expression, a clear _Told you so._

Steve roughly tightens a wrap of bandages on James’s arm. "You don’t have to be a creep about it."

James hisses, then chuckles. "You should take notes, Cap, might learn a thing or two."

"You’re such an asshole," Steve murmurs.

James’s grin doesn’t drop from his face until he stands up and flinches from pain. You look back down to the sandwiches in front of you out of reflex, trying to avoid showing that you were eavesdropping, even though they are definitely aware that you can hear them. James walks up to the counter and leans against it next to you.

"So," James starts, "What are you doing living on the side of the mountain all alone in the dead of winter?"

"Writing."

"Writing what?"

"A novel."

James smiles, "What kind of novel?"

"Horror."

A look of surprise passes over his face before he smiles again. "Oh yeah? What kind of horror?"

"It’s, um…" you hesitate for a moment, trying to figure out how to continue the lie before you deflate. "It’s not a horror story. It’s a romance novel." 

"I like those better anyway. What time period?"

"Before World War Two."

"A girl’s gotta say good-bye to her fella as he’s shipped off to Europe?"

"Actually, it’s a gay romance," you say, hoping like hell that they aren’t homophobes.

"Oh," James says, sounding genuinely surprised. "That, uh, that doesn’t sound like it would have a happy ending."

"Oh, it will. Queer people have had enough sad endings." When you peek at James’s face, just a quick glance to see his reaction, his face is soft and all the tension is gone. By the way James is standing next to you, he’s blocking your direct view of Steve, but James’s reaction helps you feel a little less apprehensive. 

"Well, as a queer person, I thank you for the happy ending."

Now it’s your turn to be surprised. "Oh! Um, you’re welcome? Are you… gay?"

"I like everybody. Makes my job real easy when I’ve got a _mark_ ," he says with bite before looking over his shoulder to where Steve is still sitting.

For some reason, when you turn your head to where Steve sits, you expect him to look uncomfortable with the talks of queerness, but instead, he’s giving James a flat and exasperated, _I’m so done with you and your bullshit_ look. The shock from seeing that face makes you giggle.

Steve’s expression softens, but only once he looks at you. He stands up then and comes join you both at the counter. "Is there anything I can help with?" he asks softly. He doesn’t stand too close, still a polite gap between the two of you — James stands closer, to the point where you can feel his body heat — but you’re finding yourself more and more comfortable with them both by the minute. For James, that’s probably what he’s trained to do; for Steve, you can’t help falling for the Good Guy Cap vibe he gives off. 

And as much as you hate to admit it, you are absolutely charmed by them and infatuated with their handsomeness. With your realization, your thoughts change from hesitancy and fear to intrigue and play. ( _Flirting_ , your mind whispers. _You want to flirt with them._ )

"Your company is enough," you say, turning your head toward him to ensure that he sees the way you smile. It’s little shyer, a little more earnest than you had intended, but the way Steve shifts closer makes it worth the vulnerability.

James leans onto the counter and reaches into your space just enough to grab both your attention and a piece of cheese from the small pile that you have so far sliced. 

Steve makes a small _Tse_ sound, judgmental of James’s snacking. "Do you have enough food to feed us? We can go without."

"I packed a lot of extra food, more than I need for the time I plan on staying here. I knew it was important to be prepared to stay longer than expected. Unpredictable weather and all that." You reach for the loaf of bread to cut some slices. "Some might think that the sourdough starter is a bit excessive, but," you shrug.

James snorts, and the sound is surprisingly gauche given his suave behavior so far. 

"What?" you ask, feeling both self-conscious and curious.

"You’re in the middle of nowhere but you brought a sourdough starter."

"Makes sense to me," Steve says beside you. "Easier than packaged dried yeast, more economical, lasts longer, tastes better."

A smile blooms on your face as you feel seen in the most wonderful way. "Yes, exactly," you say softly and far too tenderly given the domestic subject.

Steve blushes, a beautiful pink that spreads from the tops of his cheeks to his ears. He looks away from you and back to the counter, but the blush doesn’t fade.

"You’re really sweet when you blush, you know that?" you say to Steve. You are emboldened by how close he’s standing to you and accept it as an invitation to flirt, because honestly, when will you ever get another chance to flirt with Captain America? You think you’d kick yourself later if you didn’t even _try,_ especially when he gives no signals that it is unwelcome.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a hand sneak onto the cutting board to steal a slice of salami.

You turn to look at James, who simply winks as he chews and swallows. "That’s gonna be deducted from _your_ sandwich," you say, with no intent behind your words.

He laughs and winks again. "I’m healing, I need extra energy."

The sandwiches are simple, so it doesn’t take more than a minute to stack the pieces together, and then you’re leading both of them over to the couch to sit. It’s only once you’re in front of the couch that you remember it’s more of a loveseat, and the three of you — two with broad shoulders and tree-trunk thighs — won’t fit without one of you almost sitting on top of another. Steve, whether knowingly or not, relieves the situation by sitting at the table next to the front door, in the same chair where his coat hangs over the back. It’s only a few feet from the edge of the couch; it’s a very small cabin.

"I supposed I should have made you both some oatmeal instead," you say, looking down at your lap. "Breakfast would have been better given the time of day."

"This is more than we could have ever hoped for, given our circumstances a few hours ago," Steve reassures.

James adds his reassurance in a different way, saying, "Ok, you got me. This is good bread," and takes another huge bite.

After a bite of your own sandwich, you feel thirsty and reach for a drink, only to realize what a bad hostess you are and jump up. Both men look startled in response. 

"I didn’t even offer you a drink! Would you like coffee or tea or water or—"

James cuts you off with a laugh, and it’s a big belly laugh, boisterous enough to make Steve smile as well. James doesn’t explain, and your cheeks flush because you can’t help feeling like the butt of a joke.

"Your hospitality is exceptional for two mysterious trespassers," Steve explains, his voice gentle but amused.

Your blush grows. "You’re very kind and polite mysterious trespassers."

James’s laughter fades to a little chuckle, and he gives you a focused look that is still pleasant but lacks the humor from seconds ago. "Those are the ones you gotta watch out for, angel."

You shrug. "What can I say? I’m a sucker for pretty eyes and a sweet smile, apparently," and give them both a pointed look.

Steve laughs and looks at the floor while rubbing the back of his neck. He looks back up at you, still smiling but now with those beautiful, pink-tinged cheeks. "Coffee would be great."

"Seconded," James says.

"How do you take your coffee?"

"Black is fine," James says.

"Seconded," Steve echos, and James huffs a laugh.

You get up from the couch and walk back over to the kitchenette, putting the kettle directly above the fire rather than next to it as you walk past. You have learned to keep it full and warm, since you never want to wait for hot water if you don’t have to. You’re suddenly very glad that you decided to pack multiple mugs, even though at the time, it was more about allowing some laziness regarding dishwashing, rather than preparing for unexpected visitors in need of a hot drink. 

It takes a few minutes to make the coffee — pour-over for one cup is time consuming, for three it feels like a small eternity — and you spend that time looking out the window rather than back at the two of them. They’re both quiet, and at first you would have thought that they are just busy eating their sandwiches, but the few times you’ve peeked a look, they’ve been watching you. So you stare out the window, trying to ignore their intense focus, and after staring long enough, you register how the snowstorm is intensifying. Whereas an hour ago you could see to the edge of the clearing and even into the forest, now you can only see the dark and indistinct shadow of trees, rather than any definition of distance. 

James clears his throat, and it catches your attention enough to realize that you're about to overfill the mug. 

You quickly disassemble the pour-over station and take their mugs over to them. "Sorry,I didn't mean to get distracted. The storm is really picking up though."

You motion to the window as you sit back down on the couch. Steve pulls back the curtain to look outside, and James leans forward into your space to look out the same window. You hadn’t noticed how much closer you seated yourself next to him than you were when you got up to make them coffee, but his hand is right next to your thigh, and you can smell his exertion and musk and it’s intoxicating.

"Would you like to stay a little longer?" you ask in a rush. 

James turns to you. "Are you sure, angel? You’ve done so much for us already." He’s still close, yet you want him closer, you’re starting to wonder what his touch would be like, you want to invite him in even more.

"I like your company," you murmur, looking down at your lap. 

"I like yours too," he says softly in return. "But I don’t want to overstay our welcome."

You shake your head and look up to his face. "You won’t." You look over to Steve. "Will you stay?"

He hesitates only for a moment, then nods. "Yeah, we’ll stay."

His tone sounds intimate, and even though you’ve only known him for an hour or so, you feel like he’s someone with whom you could spend years together yet never grow tired of his company. 

It is possible you’ve been in solitude for too long if you are feeling this sappy over two strangers. 

James takes the last bite of his sandwich, wipes his hands with a napkin, and gets up to put the empty plate on the counter. When he turns around and faces you, he puts his hands on his hips, but there’s a playful lift to his mouth when he says, "C’mon, angel. It’s about time I teach you how to properly hold a shotgun." 

He walks over to the front door to grab the shotgun and immediately starts clicking and shifting the parts to remove any rounds. You know when he’s discovered that there weren’t any loaded in the first place when he freezes and slowly turns his head toward you. "Were you posturin’?" 

"I— um, I actually don’t like them, guns, that is, I just know I have to keep one when I’m on my own." You’re embarrassed for them to have discovered just how unsuccessfully you were protecting yourself.

"But you know how to load it," James says.

"Yeah, yeah I think so. I practiced that."

"Come show me."

He doesn’t hold out the gun and instead makes you step right next to him. His smile suggests a scheme, and whatever game he’s playing, it requires you to be close. To make things even better, Steve moves from the chair to the couch a few feet away, perched on the edge of the arm and leaning forward.

"Use a blank," he grunts.

James rolls his eyes so hard it might be painful. "Like I’d give her a real one. Angel," he says to you, "you’re cute but I’m not trustin’ you with the real thing. Especially not indoors."

"Trained agent like you can’t control me?" you tease. 

Your heart immediately starts to race when you see the open hunger on James’s face, and the way he looks at you encourages you to continue flirting with him. You feel your cheeks flush, but you keep your confidence. James doesn’t say anything in response, and he steps closer to you with his eyes locked with yours as he does, and it only makes your blush intensify.

James walks you through the proper stance and uses his fingers to gently press into the space between your shoulder and arm where the shotgun should rest. His entire body is one long line of contact behind you. He touches your arm to get you to raise or lower it, he uses his foot against yours to push your stance open or closed, and he bends to whisper right in your ear, speaking low and soft. When you look to Steve, he has a curious expression on his face, somewhere between frustrated and aroused, but it’s not discouraging you from flirting with him as well.

"How do I look, Cap?" you ask playfully. 

Steve smiles, "A real menace."

You wink at him and turn your attention back to James, who has remained very close, and his touches are starting to linger. Every place where he touches you — where his hand holds yours, where his breath warms your cheek, where his fingers touch your neck as they gather your hair to one side — every place is charged with an electric current. You decide to take a risk and step back, pressing yourself intentionally against him, and James’s responding hum is deep enough that you feel it along your back. Your posture is slouching and you can’t pretend that you’re attempting to hold the gun properly anymore. James’s hand moves from your arm, down your side, stopping at your waist and giving a gentle squeeze, and even though you have several layers on to stay warm, you might as well be laid bare before him from the way your knees buckle.

James’s grip on your waist comes in handy then when he steadies you, all while keeping you pressed against his hard body.

"Careful there, angel."

You nod and shift again, putting the gun back against your shoulder.

"Can’t let your attention slip," James murmurs with his lips next to your ear, so close that they tickle your skin. "That’s when guys like me will getcha."

You lean back a little more, letting him take more of your weight. "And what do guys like you do once they’ve got me?"

James hums again and squeezes your waist a little tighter.

Steve stands abruptly and walks to the front of the cabin, slipping on his boots but not bothering to lace them up. "You need more firewood," he says and opens the door to step outside with nothing more than a long-sleeve compression shirt and pair of utility pants to protect him from the cold. A gust of wind and snow blow in before he shuts the door, and the room falls silent except for the crackling and pops from the roaring fire. You look at the pile of logs next to the fireplace and then to James.

"Huh," he says, sounding as confused as you feel.

You walk over to the front window just in time to see Steve split a log with a sharp _chop!_ Then, and against all reason, Steve takes off his shirt.

"Oh my god," you whisper, and your jaw drops at the sight of Steve’s entire muscular torso on display. Everything about his body is perfect, and all you can think about is what he would feel like to touch.

You’re so distracted by Steve that you don’t notice James standing next to you until he says, "I can’t compete with that."

You turn to James, delighted at his admission. "Oh, so it’s a competition? For what, me?"

James peeks at you from the corner of his eye and grins. He looks back out the window at Steve, giving a low whistle as Steve brings the axe down on another log.

You step away from the window with a plan forming in your mind. James turns to look at you with a raised eyebrow. 

You grab Steve’s empty mug, the kettle from the fire, and walk to the counter to fill it again. Maybe you sway your hips a little more than usual as you walk, though you’re unsure how visible it is due to how your sweater hangs over your ass. James stays close, not as close as before, but you think he’s onto your game and enjoying it. You keep grinning at him, unable to look away for longer than a few moments. He lets you catch him checking you out, his eyes slowly sliding up from your legs to your neck before he holds your gaze again. You smile and bite your lip, a little giddy that he looks at you with such charged eyes when you know your appearance to be very homely. In total it takes only a few minutes, but you feel each one move slow like molasses and burn hot like the log in the center of the fire.

Once ready, you take the hot coffee and slip on your boots, wrap a scarf around your neck, and open the door with your freehand to step outside.

You give James one last look and say, "If it’s a competition, then I should keep it fair, right?"

James laughs and shakes his head as you walk out into the blizzard.

Watching Steve outside without his shirt on gave you a false impression of the exterior temperature, and your layers and scarf are not enough to keep you warm, causing you to shiver as you approach the edge of the cabin’s porch. 

Without any shame, you take a minute to watch Steve as he continues to chop, and you let yourself openly hunger at the sight he makes. You might be imagining it, but you think Steve repositions himself so that you can view more of his body and the way it flexes and stretches as he swings the axe once again. Steve has been chopping for about five minutes and has a moderate pile of firewood. When he stops and looks back to you, you take it as a signal to approach. 

The snow is already up to your top of your shins, so you take a longer path to Steve by following the snow prints he left behind from the cabin to the side shed to the chopping log further into the clearing. With a soft smile, Steve waits for you as you approach. As you get closer, you notice how flushed his skin is, but knowing what you do about his strength and how little effort he’s likely expending on something as simple as chopping wood, you hope it's actually a blush.

"Are you cold?" you ask, handing him the mug of hot coffee.

"I run hot," he replies, holding your gaze as he takes a sip.

A blush spreads over your own cheeks from his suggestive tone and deep voice. Your gaze drops from his face to his chest — whether slick from sweat or snow, you’re unsure — and you want nothing more than to run your hands over the broad expanse of skin. Instead, you reach out to run your hand over his bicep.

"Thank you for doing this for me, you make it look so easy."

"It’s like slicing butter," he says with the same tone as before.

"So these muscles aren’t just for show?" you purr and give his bicep a squeeze.

Steve smiles in return and flexes the muscle your hand holds.

The snow still falls around you, sticking to your hair and clothes and eyelashes, but the space between you and Steve feels sweltering. Keeping your eyes locked with his, you release his bicep only to let the tips of your fingers drag up to his shoulder, over to his collarbone, and down to his pec. Steve’s smile doesn't falter as your fingers trace across his skin, instead his eyes darken and his expression becomes sultry with a little bit of a challenge. You take a break from his intense focus to look at his body where your fingers touch, and he adjusts his shoulders so that his chest seems even more broad. You almost want to tease him for displaying like a peacock, but then you’d have to lie about how effective it is.

You look back up to his face, blinking away a few snowflakes that cling to your eyelashes. Once you make eye contact again, you ask, as coyly and sweetly as you can, "What else can these muscles do?" and you lay your hand flat on the skin at the top of his pectoral. His skin is scalding in comparison to the snowstorm around you.

Steve shifts a little closer. "I can show you later, if you like."

With all your desire on display, you nod and take a few steps back while not letting your gaze drop from his. "I hope you do."

You wonder if Steve only just realized how forward he’s been as you watch him flush even more pink than before. This time, you know it isn’t exertion.

"Don’t stay out here too long, honey."

Steve’s eyes widen as he smiles, then he ducks his head and picks up another log to set it on the stump. 

Back inside, James is seated on the couch, and he grins and motions for you to join him. 

"Can I get you a refill or different drink first?"

"Nah, I’m good. Come sit."

You sit down a little closer to James than you had before, just enough that he should notice the difference.

James leans in, so you know he does. 

"So, is he brooding outside or what?"

"Oh, I think he knows exactly what he is doing."

"It’s that tactical brain of his, never turns off."

You laugh. "It definitely worked."

James smiles in response and sits back. You can still hear the periodic chops outside.

"Do you work with Steve a lot?" you ask.

"Only recently. As much as he hates to admit it, he needs me," he smirks.

"Is he really a jerk like that?"

"Nah, he’s a good guy. I think he just gets frustrated that he needs help."

"What, he wants to be a one-man fighting machine?"

James chuckles. "Unfortunately, he has been before and it worked, so he probably thinks it’ll work every time. I think he takes on a lot of guilt when his team has casualties, so he’d rather avoid it and work alone."

"But— he’s Captain America? Doesn’t he lead the Avengers all the time?"

"Yeah, but that’s got heroes like Hulk and Thor and Captain Marvel. They’re pretty invulnerable, you know? Squishy agents like me are too big of a liability."

"You are _not_ squishy," you say, and poke his thigh.

"Mmm, maybe not," he replies, his lips turned upward in the beginnings of a grin.

"And I bet you’re very good at your job."

"Maybe so."

"Should we… do you think we could get him to loosen up even more? Everybody needs to rest. And you guys seem to have come from a pretty tense situation."

"I think if you keep flashing those pretty eyes at him, he won’t be able to resist you."

"James…" you whine, feeling your cheeks flush _again_. 

"What, are you not used to people telling you how beautiful your eyes are?" he says, then softer, "How beautiful _you_ are?"

You turn your head away a little, trying not to explode from the compliments. 

James reaches out and brushes your hair behind your ear. "You’re absolutely gorgeous, angel."

You bite your lip, trying and failing to not look back at him, but his face and posture are open and alluring. There’s a part of you, the practical part, that tries its best to protect your heart and emotions, that worries you might be another mark, just like Steve suggested earlier. With only a little more thought, you find that you don’t care; maybe you are a mark, but right now, showered by his attention, you aren’t going to discourage something that makes you feel so good.

Steve opens the door, letting in a burst of cold air, but even the winter chill can’t cool the mood between you and James — you won’t let it. Instead, you smile as Steve puts an armful of logs in the pile next to the fireplace and turns around to face you both. His shirt is back on (which makes sense but logic doesn’t stop you from being bummed about it).

"Steve, come sit," you say and reach out your hand.

Steve hesitates, but only for a moment before he takes your hand and you pull him in. You scoot so that you are pressed against James, and as soon as Steve sits, you move to lean back against him. He’s stiff at first, but you don’t let that deter you.

"James and I were just talking about you."

"I thought my ears were ringing."

"I asked him how long you’ve been working together. Do you work with spies and agents a lot?"

"Uhh," Steve says. "I only just started working with agents more. I’m, uh, not good at covert work."

"You aren’t?" you say, going a little overboard with your playful reaction.

"Not really."

"What do you do when you’re not Captain America?"

"Uh, I like to run. And I draw sometimes."

"You do? What do you draw?"

"Just, whatever. Yeah. Can you, can you tell us more about your story?"

His change in topic is obvious and you worry he’s uncomfortable.

"Are you cold or anything?" You ask, turning around to look at him directly. "Want me to throw one of those freshly chopped logs on the fire? Or I can get you something to drink or eat?"

His eyes soften, and you watch the tension drain from his face. "I’ll put a log on the fire soon, but I’m very warm. Much warmer now that I’m inside with you." Steve shifts so that his arm is over the back of the couch, around you without directly holding you. 

You share a look with James, and whereas his face doesn’t betray what yours does, you’re sure that he shares your relief that Steve is becoming physically open.

"Ok, good. So my story?"

James reaches out to rub his hand on your thigh. "Your story. Who are the main characters?"

You tell them about the best friends who were brave enough to become something more, and how their letters during the war, though coded and carefully phrased, only increased their love for each other. You tell them how you researched same-sex couples in the war and based your letters on the real ones. You tell them about how one comes home injured, but they are reunited and move forward - both of them changed by the war but ready to face whatever comes next together.

James asks questions, wondering about the backstory or trying to predict to the next plot point, and each time he reacts, he leans forward and uses the motion shift a little closer on the couch. You take every opportunity to engage and encourage James’s closeness. 

Steve is quieter, but anytime you turn to him, it’s obvious he’s listening and enjoying the story. Since James is asking more questions, you don’t face Steve as often, so you press back against him when you laugh and turn your face into his arm over the back of the couch when James teases you enough to blush.

When Steve starts to lean over your shoulder to speak close to your ear, it takes all your effort not to turn your head and close the gap between your lips. James sees it and smiles and lets his hand stroke the top of your thigh.

As both men press more and more into your space, you do everything you can to show them that they are welcome.

Once you reach the climax of the story and all of the resolution, there are no more interruptions. You know how passionate you are and how much you want it to be emotionally satisfying, and you’re swept up in the story as you share it with them; they listen, letting their touch be the connection rather than their words. However, once you reach the end, you’re suddenly nervous for their opinion.

They’re both quiet for a few heartbeats after you finish, and it only amplifies your nerves.

"Wow," Steve says softly.

"I’d say," James agrees.

"You like it?" you timidly ask.

"Yeah," James says emphatically, and he squeezes your thigh with his reassurance. 

You turn to Steve, realization only _now_ clicking. "Oh my god, I’m such an idiot, I just realized… You’re _from_ then, I… it’s not…" You cringe. "It’s ridiculous, isn’t it."

Steve rapidly blinks, looking like he’s coming out of a daze. "I, uh, I knew a few people. They were quiet about it, but they had someone they really cared about back home, and they didn’t share much, but uh, yeah. I hope they got their happy ending like yours."

You exhale, feeling vulnerable and tender. "I hope so too."

A silence follows, one that is thoughtful and comforting, buoyed by their approval of your story and their physical touch. Every few moments, you catch James’s eyes and smile or feel Steve give you a tender squeeze with his hand.

"Question for you, angel," James says after a few minutes. "Was that an outhouse I saw on the side of the cabin, or was the blood loss makin’ me imagine things?"

"Does it look like this place has indoor plumbing?"

He laughs, "Good point." Then James leans forward, and for a second you think he’s going to kiss you, but instead, he kisses your cheek. "I’ll be right back."

You watch James put on shoes and step outside, and he winks at you before he closes the door. You and Steve stay quiet, listening to the gentle rattle of the windows from the wind outside and watching the flames lick over the logs in the fireplace. The silence still doesn’t feel uncomfortable, but there’s something there, something that has butterflies fluttering in your stomach, amplified when Steve’s arm moves from the back of the couch to around your shoulders. Even though his touch is softened by your thick, cable-knit sweater, you hold your breath as you feel his thumb gently stroke where it rests against your arm.

"Hey," he murmurs, and you turn to look at him. His eyes are soft and there is a shy smile on his face. When given such a charming and intent look, you can’t help but smile in return.

With the arm around you, he pulls you toward him — not a lot, but enough to get you to follow — and leans forward, but not all the way. You close the gap, and the kiss is a light one, barely a press of lips, before you lean back leaving only a sliver of space between your faces. Then Steve leans in again, and this kiss is something more, it’s less tentative, and it’s so much that you mewl in delight. Steve’s hand moves from your shoulder to your neck, and his other hand moves to your waist to pull you just a little closer, enough that his body heat envelops you. Though the kiss stays simple and innocent, his touch ignites a fire under your skin.

Steve pulls away, and you slowly blink your eyes open to see him staring at your lips before looking back into your eyes, the heat you feel mirrored in his gaze. Then his lips crack into a smile and he leans back again, resting against the arm of the couch. 

When James walks inside only a few seconds later, you give him a big smile even though you’re still dazed from the kiss. 

"Did you manage the antique facilities okay?" you tease.

"You’ve been here for how long?" he asks as he sits back down on the couch, just as close, if not closer than before.

"A little over a month," you say. James’s eyes widen, and you continue, "It’s been a big adjustment."

"I’d say."

"Why not stay at a cabin a little more...modern?" Steve asks.

"This is a friend’s cabin, so I get to stay for free. And it’s an experience, you know?"

James smiles and moves his hand to your thigh, gently stroking your leg through your thick legging cloth.

"Can I ask you some things?" you ask, almost a gasp, your breath devoured by each touch they give, no matter how small or light, and you desperately try to add more conversation before you say something indecent. "Or are they all top secret?"

"What kinda top secret information are you trying to learn, angel?"

"What’re your roles? When you’re on a _mission_ or whatever. What do you do?"

"I’m just muscle," Steve says, more self-deprecatory that you would expect from Captain America. "I keep everyone else safe."

"Ugh," James groans. "He does this all the time, where he pretends to be this dumb meathead, when actually he strategizes and plans the entire mission, he leads in the kind of way where you _want_ to follow, he never leaves anyone behind, and he throws himself into the fray to distract and keep everyone else safe." James looks directly at Steve. "Stop being so fucking modest."

"Just the muscle, huh?" you say, tilting your head back to look at him, almost upside-down. 

Steve just shrugs, but there’s a little red at the top of his ears that hadn’t been there before.

"What do you do, James?"

"Sneaky stuff. If there’s one thing Cap can’t do, it’s sneak."

You giggle. "I don’t know how you could sneak if you’re practically wearing an American flag." You press back against Steve, and he pulls away — you worry that you finally were too forward and crossed the line — but then he lifts his leg and bends his knee to rest it against the couch back. He creates a V with his legs, and he pulls you back into that space. With one arm, he holds you tightly around your waist, pressing you against his chest, creating a far more intimate position than you could have even hoped for. He doesn’t keep his arm around your waist for long, and instead moves it to rest right at your side on his leg stretched out on the floor. 

"I’ve got a few suits that aren’t as obnoxious," he says, pretending like he didn’t just cause your heartbeat to double.

You take a moment to catch your breath before asking, "What do you wear to be so sneaky, James?"

James grins back like a cheshire cat. "All black, of course."

"Like a catsuit? Please tell me your suit is skin tight," you tease. 

Steve laughs behind you, and the arm resting on the back of the couch moves to your shoulder and his hand brushes across your collar. "You aren’t that far off," he chuckles.

Your eyes grow wide. " _Really?"_

James shows no sign of self-consciousness. "Well, maybe not skin tight, but I can’t have things too loose. And Cap isn’t the only one who knows how to distract." He reaches with his hand and starts to run it over the top of your thigh, higher than he has before, and glances from you to Steve, "Even the straightest bro can’t resist staring at my thighs and ass."

"Oh, so _your_ muscles are just for show?"

You feel Steve’s laugh more than you hear it. His fingers not around your shoulder are starting to tease at your waist, just under where your sweater ends.

James looks back at you and leans in a little further. "They can do all sorts of things, angel."

Your slow smile is all the answer he needs, and James moves confidently to hold your cheek in his hand and draw you forward for a kiss. You let your eyes flutter shut as James presses his lips to yours then gently sucks your lower lip between his. The kiss lasts only for a few seconds before he breaks away, but his hand continues to hold your face. 

"Mmm, needed to kiss you before Cap did."

You hold your breath and hear Steve snort behind you. When you open your eyes to look at James, the shock is growing on his face.

"He did? When?!" His eyes widen in realization. "He used my trip to the outhouse against me, didn’t he?"

You giggle and nod, and Steve brushes his fingers more deliberately over your waist, even giving you a little squeeze.

James leans in and whispers, "Was it a sweet and soft little kiss? Like this?" He mimics Steve’s first kiss, eerily well, and Steve’s hand doesn’t leave your waist, but he squeezes a little harder, causing you to whine in response.

James’s hand moves from your cheek to cup the back of your head, and his fingers slide into the hair at your nape and tug, starting soft and increasing until you whine again, higher and more drawn out. Then James moves both hands to your waist, just above where Steve’s hand is, and lifts you up and over to his side of the couch. 

You feel Steve’s hand drag across your back as your body is pulled from his hold, and as soon as James sets you in his lap, letting both your legs fold on his sides, and he pulls you forward and proceeds to take your breath away. 

James’s tongue caresses your lips as his hands move down from your waist to your ass to keep you pressed against him. You wrap your arms around his neck and push your hand into his hair and mirror how he drove you wild with one simple tug.

The more he kisses you, the more you whimper and moan, the more you lose track of everything by the way James touches you. It is exciting to be kissed like this; to be given such passion sends a thrill through every fiber of your body.

The sound of a throat clearing next to you pulls you both out of your erotic haze, and when you turn to look at Steve, his body is rigid and his face is bright red. You unintentionally look down to his lap and away again before you can differentiate between the folds in his pants or what might be a half-hard cock.

"I can… go, outside or… if you need… You can be alone?"

You reach out for Steve, he’s close enough that you can touch him but not as close as you crave, and you grab the top of his thigh and squeeze. "I don’t want to choose," you beg, "Can I be selfish?"

Steve leans in when you squeeze his thigh again. You keep your other arm wrapped around James’s shoulders — you think you’ll have to convince him less than Steve, but you don’t want anyone to feel unwelcome. James teased that it has been a competition, but you want them both to win, you want to be a shared prize, you don’t want to choose.

"I just thought—" Steve starts.

"—Can I have you both? Want you both, want you," you ask, cutting him off and reaching further so that you can grasp his shirt.

You keep your focus on Steve, watching as he internally debates himself and letting your eyes plead for you. You hope that you’re not imagining the acceptance growing on his face and the line between his eyebrows starting to relax.

James waits with his hands still around your waist, squeezing in reflex with his own anticipation, but he seems more impatient than you when he asks, "What do you say, Cap? Wanna share this angel with me? I’ll try not to kiss you too."

"I— that’s— it’s… it’s fine," Steve stutters, blushing madly.

You pull Steve closer using your grip on his shirt. He moves so easily, and knowing how strong he is, you take this to mean that he is coming around to the idea. "Kiss me?"

Steve doesn’t move forward right away, but he keeps his gaze on your lips. You can see the desire build and the way he holds his breath. 

"What the fuck are you waiting for—" James starts, before Steve finally closes the gap and kisses you, and kisses you and kisses you, taking your breath away. When he finally leans back, he bites your lip almost too hard before letting it go so that it snaps back enough to sound a tiny _Pop!_ He keeps his eyes fixed on your lips.

"So is that a yes?" you sigh.

Steve doesn’t say anything, just smiles, shy and sweet, a total contrast to the kiss that still has your lips wet. 

James cups your cheek and turns your head back to him, grinning as he pulls you forward, but instead of kissing your lips, he dips lower, sucking and licking and pressing wet kisses from the bottom of your neck to the place where your jaw meets your ear. You look to Steve, and his face is full of hunger, but from the way his stare bounces between your lips and James’s lips on your neck, you’re starting to wonder if the hunger is just for you, or if he wants a little of James’s attention as well.

You reach out for him again and run your hand through his hair and let your nails gently scratch over his scalp. His eyes close and beautiful expression of peace softens his face, so you do it again. James distracts you by sucking right on the pulse point of your neck, causing you to inadvertently pull Steve’s hair tighter in reaction, but the groan that echoes deep in Steve’s chest tells you that he doesn’t mind.

"Ahh!" you cry, and the heat in the room grows to a blaze. 

James takes the opportunity to push his hands under your sweater, under the thermal, right against your skin, and even though his hands are warm, you still shiver. James responds by moaning against your neck where he continues to mark you up.

Steve rubs his hand up and down your thigh, his eyes move from where his hand is, up to where James’s hands squeeze and caress your waist, to your chest to your face, and you wonder why he isn’t doing more, what is he waiting for? But his touch doesn’t leave, and it starts to move higher and higher on your thigh, changing from dragging his fingertips to gripping you with his whole hand. 

Still, if he won’t kiss you, you know someone who will. 

You turn your head, obstructing the open line of your neck enough that James pulls back to you look at you; he has not grown bored of lavishing your neck and shoulders with attention, and the collar of your sweater is likely to be permanently stretched. James’s eyes are dark and half-shut, and he looks drunk just from giving _you_ attention. 

It’s a very good look.

"You’re very handsome, James," you murmur, and he’s close enough that you barely have to whisper, but he grins, so you know he heard you perfectly. You reach out with your index finger to touch his plump and flushed-pink bottom lip. "You seem very practiced at kissing and romancing, too."

"Only for the special partners. Very few experience this."

"I’m special?" You look up to James’s eyes, and his gaze is very intense, more than you would expect.

"Very," he states, simply and without hesitation.

"Show me more?"

James grins again and leans forward, immediately licking your lips, asking you to open for him so he can show exactly what he means. His tongue teases your lips, dipping just past to touch the tip of your tongue, just enough to catch your breath and make you whimper.

In reaction to the sound, his hands slip from your waist to your breasts, cupping them with a tender squeeze.

"Oh!" you gasp, "Yes, yes, more!" you plead against his lips.

The same time James squeezes your breasts again, moving his index fingers to swipe over your peaked nipples, you feel Steve’s hand slide from your thigh to your ass, grabbing and massaging your plump skin with his strong hands.

You moan again, longer and more drawn out, and Steve’s other hand grabs your thigh as James’s fingers flick over your nipples harder.

You didn’t notice at first, too caught up in all the other sensations, but when James pinches your nipples and you grind down into his lap, his hardness presses back. Steve pushes you in further with his hand on your ass.

"Take me to bed," you ask, though it escapes your lips so breathlessly that it is less of a request and more of a wish.

"Want me to take you apart, angel? Want me to show you just how good I can make you feel?"

You nod, so quickly and close to his face that you bump noses.

James nods in return, bumping his nose right back against yours. It’s adorable and so much sweeter than you could have expected in this moment. He maneuvers you off his lap and onto your feet, and your knees buckle to the point that if it weren’t for Steve’s quick reflexes to support you at your waist, you might have crumpled to the floor. Your legs finally steady enough for you to stand next to the couch, still overwhelmed at the turn of events as you watch James go over to his coat where it’s been resting on the back of the chair since he arrived. He digs around, removes a small case — similar to the travel case you use for all your toiletries — and pulls something out. He looks back at you, holding up a strip of condoms and raising his eyebrow in question. You nod feverishly, wanting him in you, wanting him to stop teasing you and to fuck you.

"You brought rubbers?" Steve asks incredulously. 

It pulls you out of your daze, but you don’t react beyond a few quick blinks.

James is still alert enough to needle Steve. "The man with a plan? Not prepared for whatever crosses his path? I’m shocked, Cap."

"Who were you planning to screw on this mission?"

From the way James’s face pinches and the smile drops away, you can tell that he had planned for it to be Steve. 

Steve realizes it very quickly too. He stares at James for a moment before stuttering, "But… you hate me."

"Nice try, Cap, but we both know that of the two of us, it’s _you_ who can’t stand _me_." James turns his face away completely; he’s been so suave and composed since the moment he stepped into the cabin this morning, but now you’re seeing a crack in all that. James reaches to the other side of the table for the first-aid kit and removes a nitrile glove.

"I— I don’t…" Steve stutters.

James comes back over to you, all suaveness returned as well as his focus. "I’ll leave you to sort all that out, Cap. I have an angel to worship. Join us when you pull yourself together."

You blush, feeling awkward from their exchange but easily reengaged by the way James looks you over.

He pulls you by the hand to walk over to the bed. You look back at Steve, who collapses on the couch — still facing you and James on the other side of the cabin, but not showing any intention of joining you.

Steve’s mood is enough to pull you from your pressing desire for James. "I don’t want to upset him," you murmur. "He’s gonna be cold over there." 

James turns to face you and takes hold of both your hands with his. "Don’t worry, angel. I can see the way the wheels are turnin’ in that thick and handsome head. He’s just dealing with a new perspective."

"You like him a lot, don’t you," you say, very little question in your tone.

James looks down at your joined hands and sounds a little shy when he responds, "I do." He takes a deep breath, and his vulnerability, as small as it was, disappears as lust takes its place. "Don’t worry about him though. He’ll be over here soon enough."

James twirls you around to face Steve and presses himself along your back. He leans in so that his mouth rests against your ear, and as you close your eyes to savor the feeling, he whispers very softly, so softly you can barely hear him. "Now, I know that Cap won’t be able to resist you because I saw the way he looked at you, especially how he looked when you made all those pretty sounds."

You giggle, but it’s cut off by a gasp as James gently bites your earlobe. 

He lets himself take a few rugged breaths before he continues, "Once he removes that stick up his ass, he’ll enjoy pleasuring you right alongside me, so I’m wonderin’ what you’d think of putting on a little show for him? Lemme show you off, show him how good you feel, see how quick we can get him over here to join us?"

You open your eyes to focus on Steve and see him turn his head away — the guy has no subtlety regarding his eavesdropping — and though you’ve never been an exhibitionist before, all you want is to try it now. You want Steve to see you that way, to see James pleasuring you, and your mind and pussy catch fire so fast that without another thought, you nod and lean back into James.

"Yeah, angel? You like that idea?"

You nod again and turn around to face James. "Yes, I do. How… how do you want me?"

James’s face gets soft, surprisingly so, before he says, "I want you in a lot of ways, sweetheart." But the charm returns as quickly as it vanished. "How about you sit in my lap on the bed and I spread you out nice and wide so I can finger you? I bet your pussy is just as pretty as you are."

No matter how much you should have expected the dirty talk, it still shocks you to hear him talk with such open hunger for your most intimate place.

"Yeah," James groans. "Cap won’t be able to resist that either. But first, I’m gonna have you all to myself." He leans forward, kissing your lips and immediately making his way across your cheek to your neck, sucking hard and causing you to cry out, sharp and quick. He moves back to your ear and growls, "Don’t hold anything back. Be as loud and wild as you want."

James turns you around and uses his big body to crowd you until your legs run to the bed. You fall backward onto your hands with a gentle bounce, staring at James as your heart beats faster in your chest. He gets onto the bed with his knees around your legs, and as he crawls forward, you crawl back until you get to the pillows at the head of the bed. James continues slowly, lowering himself as he climbs up your body and doesn’t stop until his mouth is just above yours. His breath is hot as it moves from your lips to your cheek and down to the side of your neck.

"Will you be warm enough if I take off some of these layers? Or do you want to keep them on?" he murmurs.

"Will you keep me warm?"

James kisses your neck and sucks a mark, a distraction as he slips a hand under all your top layers to hold your belly and let his fingertips drag to the skin just under your breast. His touch makes you shiver, but it’s obvious the reaction is not from the cold. "Gonna make you sweat, angel."

You keen in pleasure as his hand cups your breast at the same time that he sucks on your neck again. 

"You really are perfect, aren’t you?" he murmurs into your skin.

Your back bows under his body and he slides his hand from your breast to your belly and keeps it moving on a very clear path to your sex. 

In a moment of awareness, you remember to give him a warning. "You know, I’ve been living in the wilderness alone for over a month, so I haven’t felt the need to keep up with," you cough, "personal grooming."

"Don’t worry, angel. I like my partners to be wild in all sorts of ways."

You hadn’t expected him to turn you down due to some body hair, but it is a relief to know that you’ll be treasured exactly as you are.

"Anyway," he continues, "how could I hold that against you when I’m probably even less groomed than you are?"

You lift your hand to rub his cheek, where a rough beard is starting to fill in. "Another day and you’ll be a mountain man, huh?"

He grins and leans in to kiss you again, and you keep your hand on his cheek, brushing your thumb back and forth over his scruff. His hand slips under your panties, and he uses the very tip of his finger to dip past your seam.

"Mmm!" you whine.

"God, angel, I bet you’ll be dripping when I spread you out. Come on, not gonna wait any longer," he says as he sits up and pulls you with him.

His attention has made you dizzy, and you sway as James slips his hands under your sweater and pulls it off, then your thermal and long johns; your hair gets in your face, but before you can even lift your arm to move it out of the way, James runs his fingers through your hair and pushes it back then takes your face between both hands and leans in for another kiss.

"James," you sigh. You are thankful that you don’t know any national secrets because you would tell James whatever necessary so that he’d kiss you like that again.

He releases you only to move down your body to remove the layers from your legs, leaving you in only your panties (plain) and bra (sports). Nothing about the way his eyes move up and down your body suggest that he is displeased with your ordinary undergarments. 

"Your turn," you say, and without ceremony, James stands to strip down to his briefs, then he holds still so you can appreciate him too. His body is hard and his muscles thick, and everything about the way he holds himself screams _Power_. The skin that had been hidden by clothing now reveals wounds both old and new, all tell-tale signs of his ability, how he managed to receive those and survive. 

James doesn’t let you look for too long, and you mentally hit yourself because you were so distracted by his gorgeous upper body that you forgot to get a good look at his dick! You have only a split second as he moves to sit behind you and lean against the headboard; the glimpse that you see is promising.

"Don’t forget, angel, we’ve got a plan."

The reminder has you looking over to Steve, who is still seated on the couch and now looks right back at you, no attempt to look away. 

It is disappointing that Steve hasn’t joined you yet, but James pulls you back into the V of his legs, presses his mouth against your ear, and whispers, "That’s how we know he’s still interested — if he wasn’t he’d have left the cabin by now. But look—" and you do, making clear eye contact with Steve, "—he can’t take his eyes off you. I bet he _wants_ to watch for a bit."

"You’re sure?" you murmur.

"Look at his lap," James says before he takes a deep breath with his nose pressed behind your ear.

You look, and whatever Steve is packing is tenting the front of his utility pants. When you see Steve adjust to open his legs a little wider, it confirms what James said; Steve wants to watch.

Time to give him a show.

You lean back against James and pull off your panties, holding them to the side of the bed before letting them drop and not breaking your eye contact with Steve. Steve shifts again and takes a deep breath.

The fire on the other side of the cabin is roaring, as large as possible to generate enough heat that as James takes off your bra, you don’t shiver and your nipples are peaked for reasons not related to the temperature. You hear a soft snap and look to your side to see James’s hand now covered in the nitrile glove he had grabbed from the first-aid kit. 

"I thought that woulda been sexier, but it just sounded like the start of a medical exam."

"Some people role play that kinda thing."

James laughs and you tilt backward for a kiss over your shoulder. While his lips have you distracted, he slips his hand not gloved to your breast and gives it a squeeze.

You gasp, and James growls against your lips. "Quit bein’ cute, angel, I’m tryin’ to give ya an orgasm."

"I’m not stoppin’ you," you reply. Before you can wonder how long you need to keep up the clever responses, James’s gloved hand slips from your belly to your cunt and slides right between your folds.

"Ah!" you cry. 

James pushes his mouth against your ear again and murmurs, "Put your legs around mine, open yourself up nice and wide for me."

You shift awkwardly to get into the position, all of the teasing from only moments ago absorbed by the desire dripping from James’s tone. He keeps his hands on you, and as soon as you lean back against him again, his gloved hand returns to your pussy.

He lightly drags one finger from your clit to your entrance and back without focusing on either, the light touch leaves a trail of sparks in its wake. His other hand holds your breast, and he teases your nipple between two fingers, giving it little twists and gentle pinches that only make you wetter. 

You don’t know where to put your hands, you want to give him attention too but all of your limbs are trapped in some way with James’s body. He holds you with his arms around yours so that you can’t do much more than squeeze his thighs in reaction to the way his touch drives you wild. He keeps his face pressed against the side of yours, his heavy breaths making your skin damp with more than sweat. 

His finger teases the skin above your clit, first it’s just a gentle tease, but then it builds to a pressure that has you whining and begging for more. 

He chuckles against your ear. "I don’t want you to have to beg, angel, but god, you sound so sweet when you do."

"Please, more, please, James."

"What is the more that you want, angel. Tell me."

"In me, I want your fingers in me."

He chuckles again and uses the tips of his fingers to drag along your lips and around your entrance. "Here?"

You nod frantically and push into his hand as much as you can, but James uses his other arm to hold you still against him.

"So eager," he purrs.

You open your eyes and look directly at Steve again. "Want more."

Steve presses his palm against his dick before returning it to cling to the arm of the couch. Even from across the cabin, you can see how his knuckles are white from gripping so hard.

James slides his finger into your channel, pumping it a few times before running the tip around your folds again. You moan with relief when his finger dips in and pout when he pulls it out.

"Don’t tease," you beg again, not caring how desperate you sound.

"Mmm," James hums against your ear and slides two fingers into you. 

You sigh and push yourself against him. "More, _more_ ," you murmur. You look at Steve again, making eye contact with him before before tipping your head back onto James’s shoulder. 

"Gorgeous, angel," James says, turning his head to kiss your temple. He uses his two fingers to scissor inside of your channel and massage his fingers against your walls. "You’re so goddamn wet, angel, I wanna lick it all up."

" _James,_ " you gasp. 

"Slide in so easy," he says as he curves his fingers and makes you shiver. "I bet I could slip my cock right in, you’d just take me, wouldn’t you?" he continues. He thrusts his hard cock against your ass, and as he pulls back, he presses the heel of his hand against your clit, then starts a rocking motion with you inbetween. His breath against your ear is rough, and between his dirty talk, you hear soft groans and grunts in rhythm with the sway of your bodies. James’s hand penetrating you and rubbing on your clit makes you squirm and stiffen, depending on his combination of touch, and when one particularly good curl of his fingers has you almost sliding from his embrace, he moves hand to your other breast so that his arm is draped across your chest and holds you tight against his body. You are engulfed by him, only moments away from being entirely consumed, and only one thing — man — could make it better.

Steve is still seated across the room, but he keeps his hand over his dick now, rubbing his palm down the clothed and hard shaft in steady strokes.

"James, I want him to come over here," you whine.

"Just keep sounding like you do, angel, he can’t resist for much longer."

Since his answer isn’t _Now_ , you aren’t satisfied, so you take his hand from your chest and pull it to your mouth to suck on two fingers. 

" _Angel,"_ James moans.

You struggle to keep your eyes open, but you stay focused on Steve. His gaze moves from your face to your cunt where James’s fingers continue to penetrate and his palm presses harder and harder. Steve is shifting more than he is sitting still, and when he isn’t desperately pushing his palm along his erect but still-clothed cock, he’s gripping the tops of his thighs or making a tight fist on the arm of the couch.

"Steve, please," you beg.

Steve tilts his head back and groans, now cupping his cock over his pants.

"Want you here, Steve. James, _ungh,_ James!" you cry as he bites your earlobe in the same moment he swirls his fingers along your walls. "I want him over here with us!"

Steve stands and adjusts his dick in his pants then _finally_ walks over to the bed.

"Yes! Come here, yes yes—" You’re cut off by your own moan as James uses his thumb to drag right over your clit.

"Can’t believe you kept this angel waiting so long," James growls.

Steve stops at the edge of the bed. "How do you… How do you want to…" he asks, hesitant though his impressive erection obviously wants to join. 

You immediately have an idea and look to James out of the corner of your eye. "Lemme?" you start, and he loosens his hold on you so that you can slip from his legs and crawl forward. You walk awkwardly on your knees across the bed to Steve, reaching out for him, and once he’s close enough, for the waistband on his pants. You look up to his face. "May I?"

Once he gives you a nod of approval, you pull his pants down only enough to get his long, hard dick out, but before you dip so your mouth can suck on the head, you turn back to James. "Can you pass me a condom?"

James grins and grabs one from the side table without looking away. He even opens it with his teeth before handing it over.

"Thank you," you say, unintentionally demure, before you lean forward and give him a quick and wet kiss. When you turn back to Steve, you’re proud of how your hands only slightly shake as you slip the condom on his cock. You look up to his face with a coy little smile and ask, "It’s not too tight, is it? You’re _very_ big."

Steve blushes bright red, almost as red as his flushed cock. "It’s fine," he chokes out.

You get on your hands and knees so that your mouth is positioned right in front of his dick. You look back over your shoulder to James and give your ass a little shake. "Will this be okay?"

He gets up to his knees quickly, pulling off his briefs as he does. "Fuck yes, angel," he moans. He rubs his hands up and down your ass, his gloved hand leaving behind a trail of your wetness. He spreads your cheeks a little and leans forward to kiss just above your tailbone. He lingers for a moment, breathing in the scent of your sweat and arousal, and huskily asks, "You want me to keep fingerin’ you? Or something a little more?"

Steve has started to run his fingers through your hair, tilting your face upward so he can see the way your eyes flutter shut. 

"Wanna be full," you murmur, feeling your brain start to descend into a fuzzy place of pleasure and happiness and calm. Even in such a vulnerable position, you know you are safe.

Turning back to look at James, you whisper, "Please?"

"Couldn’t deny such a sweet request from you, angel," he purrs as he moves forward and slides his hard cock between your thighs. He rubs himself back and forth as he grabs another condom for himself. James leans in, plastering himself against your back. He grabs your breasts and gives them a tender squeeze with a flick over your pert nipples before drawing his hands back down your body to your ass again. 

You nuzzle your nose along Steve’s hard length, the condom barrier doing little to take away from how strong his scent is, how hard he is. "I don’t know how I’m going to fit all of you in my mouth," you murmur.

There’s a soft whimper above you, but you don’t need to look up to know it was Steve, to know his arousal swells with each hot breath you exhale against his skin, to know that you have just as powerful an effect on him as he does you. You lick the head, and even though the lubricant on the condom doesn’t taste great, you can easily ignore it and focus on everything else. James’s hands continue to caress over your ass, up to your lower back, down around to your breasts hanging heavily under you, and back over your belly to your thighs. The sensations heighten everything in you, your skin buzzes where he touches, your mouth salivates, your pussy oozes and throbs in anticipation. You lick Steve again and look up, craving another look at his gorgeous face, and he stares right back at you, mouth open and eyes dark.

With a little wiggle of your ass to signal your readiness to James, you take the head of Steve’s cock in your mouth and give it a tender suck. A little whine escapes your throat — you feel so lucky to be experiencing this moment, to have Steve fill your mouth and James ready to fill your cunt. James runs his fingers through your pussy, and you’re wet, you’re still so wet, even wetter than before. 

James must realize the same thing as he moans loudly and swears, " _Fuck_ , angel, goddamn," and glides right into you, all the way until you feel his pelvis press against your ass.

You take Steve in a little further and close your eyes, absolutely satisfied to be so full, then James starts to thrust with his thick cock, and you begin to lose yourself to everything…so much so that after less than a minute with both Steve in your mouth and James in your cunt, you come, possibly the quickest you’ve _ever_ come. You moan, not only because it feels _really fucking good_ , but also because you’re frustrated that you couldn’t have lasted even a _little_ longer. 

James swears again above you as soon as your walls start rhythmically clenching around him. "God _damn_ , angel. You like being full like this, huh?"

You whine in reply, not yet wanting to take your mouth off of Steve. You look up to him, feeling self-conscious for your body’s eagerness.

Steve looks back at you with awe in his eyes and says softly, "Did you come, angel?" 

This whole visit he hasn’t used that nickname and to hear it from his lips feels like a reward in itself. You nod as best you can, sucking a little harder and swirling your tongue around him, and Steve smiles, bright and excited.

James squeezes your ass tightly, sliding out and in slowly. "Don’t worry, we’ll give you another one," he says and continues to grind into you, holding you at your waist with one hand and using the other to pet all over your back and ass, squeezing as much as he strokes.

You look up to Steve again and he’s still smiling, but it’s a cocky and an absolutely sultry thing. "Your mouth is heaven." 

With all your heart, you memorize this moment, filled by them both and showered with their praise; to be so adored by two extraordinary men is your own glorious heaven. If this is a dream, you hope to never wake.

Steve gently rolls his hips, he uses your mouth but doesn’t fuck it, doesn’t hurt you at all other than the growing soreness from his size. He brings his thumb down to your mouth and traces around your lips, making them even more slick from the spit that leaks out with each thrust. You think you could watch the mesmerizing roll of his hips forever, his movement is so smooth and controlled.

"Is it good?" Steve murmurs, and though his tone is smug, you know he’s also checking in. 

You hum in response, creating a gentle buzz around his cock that has him tipping his head back and laughing softly. He’s so big that you want to use your hand, you normally would, but with the way James thrusts into your body, you need both hands on the bed for balance. Steve sounds and looks like he is satisfied with how things are right now.

James swirls his cock inside you, a movement both so similar yet different from his fingers, and it feels just as good. You squeeze around him in response, and you love how he laughs back, light and breathless.

Steve and James get into a rhythm, where Steve will push forward just as James starts to pull out, and as James thrusts back in, Steve pulls out so that your mouth holds only the very tip. Their dance with your body has you rocking in rhythm, and you are surprised by how little you actually need to do given how involved all of your body is for both of their pleasure. You are touched and warmed by how they take care of you, how they treasure you in this moment even as your body is used like a toy.

You would let them use your body this way every day if they wanted, all they’d have to do is ask. 

James’s thrusts start to grind more, and he reaches around you to let his fingers start to tease your clit, your swollen and sensitive clit that is still desperate for more. His touch encourages sounds that you rarely have the opportunity to make, that express a type of pleasure you don’t experience often enough. You don't feel an ounce of self-consciousness, all you want is to drown in this ecstasy and share as much of it as you can with James and Steve. 

"Angel, you feel so good, can I—" James cuts himself off to grunt when you push back on his cock. "Fuck, baby, yes," he pants, and as the pumping of his cock in your channel gets faster and faster, he asks, "Can I come on you? On your ass? Will you let me, angel?"

You don’t want to take your mouth off of Steve, but you want James to know how much you want him to cover you with his cum. You look up to Steve, keeping your mouth around him and sucking hard, and when he makes eye contact with you, you nod your head as best you can, hoping he’ll tell James for you.

"Yeah?" Steve rumbles. "You like that idea, don’t you, baby?"

You nod again, and Steve takes your face in his hands and lets his fingers run through your hair. His touch is gentle even as his cock pushes a little deeper into your mouth, stretches you even wider; you’re getting so sore that you’re not sure how much more you can take even though you refuse to tap out.

You’ve kept your eyes locked on Steve’s, as much as you can as the pleasure continues to overtake your senses, but you see him look away to James. James’s thrusts are powerful as they pound against your ass, but he holds your thighs to keep your body steady enough that you never risk hurting Steve.

"Don’t keep our angel waiting, James," Steve says, low and with a challenge in his tone.

James laughs, and then his laugh transforms into a cry as he pulls out. Seconds later, you hear the wanton sound of his hand stroking over his slick cock and then you feel his cum splatter all over your ass and thighs. It feels incredible to be marked by James this way, to feel his pleasure as physical evidence, especially as some of it trickles down your body. 

You pull your mouth off of Steve slowly enough to leave a trail of spit connecting your bottom lip to the tip of his cock. It’s his turn to come and you don’t think your mouth is going to do it. Though your mind is still a heady blend of pleasure and exhaustion, you push yourself onto your knees and crawl backward to where you think James is, hoping that he’ll help guide you back to his lap. 

James does, and as he grabs you around your waist and pulls you between his legs, right up against him, you spread open your thighs and summon Steve to your cunt.

Steve stares at your pussy as he drops his pants, his shirt still on, but before he can get onto the bed, James says, "What, you can be shirtless outside in the middle of the blizzard but not while you get your cock wet?"

You snort, a not-at-all sexy sound, but Steve’s full body blush, revealed as he sheepishly pulls off his shirt, removes any attention from your laughter. James’s bravado falls away in the presence of a fully nude Steve Rogers; you and James are both speechless as you drag your eyes from Steve’s broad shoulders to his full pecs and tight waist and _damn_ , such a gorgeous long cock that you want filling you up yesterday.

"There’s a sight," James says, and his tone full of worship rather than tease.

Steve smiles and no longer shows any bashfulness, all of it likely driven away by yours and James’s appreciation of his body, and he falls to his knees on the bed and crawls over to you. Steve kneels between your spread thighs and leans in to kiss your lips so tenderly and softly that you hum in happiness; he hasn’t kissed you since you were together on the couch ages ago.

He breaks away slowly and stays very close. "Still want me to show you how strong I am?" he asks against your lips.

His reprise of your conversation outside sends a burst of arousal flooding through your body, straight to your cunt. You nod, only a little but enough for him to feel it, because know you need to answer but don’t want to be any farther from his lips than you already are. With your eyes still closed, you feel the way his mouth grins before he lifts you from James’s lap and holds you so that you are positioned with your pussy over his cock. You wrap your arms around his shoulders to keep balance but quickly realize that his hold on you is so strong and steady that you don’t even sway.

"James, will you…?" Steve asks, a hesitancy in his voice that you now understand to be due to his feelings for _James_ and not because any discomfort with you.

James drags his hands up your legs that drape over the sides of Steve’s, he keeps his hands moving over your ass, smearing the cum into your skin before one of his hands leaves your body to move under you, taking hold of Steve. You feel his arm pump over Steve’s cock a few times, and Steve makes a choked off noise; in a daze, you look at Steve’s face and see how his brows scrunch together and his mouth hangs open again. 

The tip of Steve’s cock touches your entrance, and James presses his mouth against your ear and murmurs, "She’s all yours, Steve."

Your pussy feels like a glove made for Steve’s cock by the ease and control with which he lowers you, and it has you gasping once you are seated. 

"Mmm," Steve moans, "you really are wet."

You throw your head back and moan; you don’t have a clever retort and don’t care when the sex is already this good.

You feel James get closer behind you, one of his hands supports your neck and guides it to his shoulder, the other slides up to cup your breast and squeeze.

"Oh!" you cry out.

Steve starts to lift you, gliding you off his cock until only the head is still inside, then pulls you right back down until you are full again. Your arms drop from around Steve as you lean back onto James’s shoulder, and you close your eyes and moan and whine and preen as Steve continues to fuck you and James’s hands pinch and flick and slide all over your skin. 

As James runs his hands all over your body, he whispers about how beautiful you are, how perfect you are for them, how your body feels made to give them pleasure. "You’re our angel, baby, our perfect angel, look at you." James let his hand fall to your pussy again, and he presses gentle circles on your clit. His touch sends you to new heights, so close to where Steve penetrates you relentlessly, giving you everything you need to come again, harder and sharper than before.

"Steve," you moan as you pulse around him, "Steve, god, your dick is perfect."

"How’s it feel inside you, angel?" James murmurs against your ear. With the absence of one of his hands and the repetitive slapping against your ass, you know he’s hard again and jacking himself off. 

"Hot," you reply, saying exactly what you feel in that instant as Steve fucks into you harder and faster. You rock against James’s shoulder, your breasts sway obscenely with Steve’s thrusts, and you let your hand move from James’s thigh to the arm that is moving quick over his cock. This whole time, you’ve been so supported by Steve and James that you’ve been able to keep your arms loose, not even needing to hold yourself up. 

"James, his cock is so long, so big, I bet he’ll hit all the right places when he fucks you."

James groans.

"He’s so strong, he could do this —mmm!— with your body too, I bet. Just pick you up and fuck you till you screamed."

" _Angel_ ," James says, at the same time Steve slams into you with a grunt.

You open your eyes and grin at Steve, your orgasm makes you more brave and more forward. "I’m glad you joined us, Steve."

James laughs, and Steve huffs, a smile evident as he looks down to where he’s sheathed inside you. He looks up at you and leans forward for a kiss. You immediately lean toward him and open your mouth so he can lick and suck on your upper lip.

"I know I took a while," he says between fast breaths. He pushes himself a little harder against your cunt, a little further making you whine and pulse twice more around his cock. "I was really enjoying the show."

You kiss him again, tenderly biting on his lip before breaking away. "You like my pussy?" you murmur.

Steve nods, his eyes carnal and dark. "James is right, it’s as pretty as you are."

You and James moan together. You let your hand fall from James’s arm to his thigh and squeeze. "Speaking of pretty," you murmur, turning your face towards his. "Steve has a gorgeous set of tits, huh? Look at how they bounce!"

James laughs, and you are proud that you can get Steve to blush again, even as his cock continues to penetrate you.

"James, be honest, which pair do you like better, huh? I know my boobs are nice but he’s givin’ me some real competition."

James moves his hand around your back to hold and squeeze your breast again, taking a little of the air from your lungs as you gasp in pleasure. Your nipples are sore from all the attention but you never want his touch to stop.

"This is why threesomes with more than one gender are fun, more bodies to admire and mark up."

"Mmm," you moan, "you havin’ threesomes often?"

James chuckles and Steve’s eyes go a little wide; he looks desperate for the answer. 

"I hope to start havin’ them more often after this," James growls against your ear, and his arm moves even faster.

Steve catches the meaning as quickly as you do, and he smiles as he grinds against your pussy.

You moan again, but you can’t resist another tease. "Maybe next time, I can watch _you_ fuck _Steve."_

James cries out, and you feel his cum spurt onto your ass and back, marking you with his pleasure again. 

Steve still holds your lower body, but now he thrusts into you quickly and hard, making you bounce on James’s shoulder. "Gonna come, gonna come," he starts to chant. 

"Yeah, Steve," James says, his voice deliciously sated. "Let our angel know how good she makes you feel." 

Steve cries out, holding you down tight against his body, extra warmth spreads where his cock is buried inside you, and you wish you could feel his cum. You let out a long sigh, wanting nothing more than to float away into the clouds, but instead you sag into James’s arms and he holds you tight, taking all your weight easily. "Got you, angel, I got you." 

Steve gently lifts you off him, pulling out, and even though your cunt is empty now, your heart feels full.

James and Steve move around then, first cleaning up condoms and a glove, then Steve straightens out his legs and rolls to his side, and James turns so that he can lay you down between them, holding his hand under your head as he places you on the pillow. He leans down to kiss your forehead, lingering a moment and taking a deep breath. Before he sits back up, he kisses the same place. 

Steve says a quiet, "James," to get his attention. 

James turns his head to Steve and smiles. Though you are exhausted, you keep your eyes open, drooping but still alert, and watch as Steve sits up and leans forward to give James a soft kiss. You bet it was like the first one he gave you. You know how sweet that kiss is, and you’re happy for James to receive it as well. 

"Really?" James says as Steve pulls away. 

"I’m an idiot for not noticing." 

"Well, that’s definitely true," James says dramatically, and you giggle beneath them, too worn out to do more than smile. You’re so happy to see how Steve’s gaze has changed, how adoringly he looks at James now. When Steve turns his soft eyes down to you, your cheeks flush hot.

"What’s got you blushin’ so sweet, angel?" James asks, using his hand to brush your sweaty hair off your forehead.

"Just… just feeling good." You aren’t sure where all your confidence went, but you have a feeling that these soft post-coital looks from Steve and James drove it away. "How are you?"

No tact left either, apparently.

James slides down onto his side and rubs his hand on your belly. 

"About 36 hours ago, I had just been stabbed, was cornered on an enemy base, and wanted to kiss Steve so bad but figured he’d punch me if I tried. Now I’m layin’ in bed with a gorgeous girl and guy after a couple orgasms, and I can barely feel the stab wound. I’m good, angel."

"I’m sorry I wasn’t very considerate of your injury, you’re okay?"

"I heal fast and it wasn’t that bad in the first place. Steve is just a mother hen."

"I think it’s more than that."

James smiles, then looks at Steve. "Yeah, maybe it is more than that."

"You flirt with everyone," Steve blurts out. "I didn’t know you meant it."

James looks at Steve for a long moment. "I did. Do."

"This is like high school all over again," you say.

They both laugh. Steve wraps his arm under you and pulls you onto your side and against his, maneuvering you so that your head lays on his chest. 

James tucks up behind you and kisses the back of your neck. "You really are an angel."

The three of you lay together, the sounds of your steady breaths accompanied by the crackling from the dwindling fire and the wind rattling the windows. The snowfall outside is still thick and persistent; you’d guess that another couple of inches have blanketed the ground since you and Steve were outside.

Steve’s fingers run idly through your hair, smoothing out any tangles created from sex. Bucky’s hand not tucked under his head strokes your bare skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

"Can I make you some dinner?" you ask softly, almost speaking directly into Steve’s chest where your head lays. You’ve been considering over the past few minutes how much longer they might stay, and whether you should just outright ask them to.

"Hmm," Steve considers, the hum resonating in his chest and buzzing against your ear. "About how far down the mountain until a road?" 

"Maybe about an hour-long hike? 45 minutes if you book it?" 

James sighs and squeezes your waist. "I think we better go then, before it’s too dark." 

"Or… or maybe you could stay until the morning?" you hate how desperate you sound, but you can’t take the words back. 

James responds softly, kissing the back of your neck first. "I’d be tempted to never leave, and you have that happy ending to write." He kisses your neck again. "When are you planning to be in civilization again?" 

"Not for another month." 

James sits up and looks around the room and sees whatever he’s looking for. He moves over to your desk between the bed and the kitchenette and picks up a pad of paper and pen. You and Steve both sit up and watch him move around. He walks with his bare ass on display and returns to the bed, writing as he walks. You wonder if Steve is looking at the same thing you are, because James is still very impressive, even soft. 

"When you’re back, call this number," he says, pulling a page from the pad and handing it to you. 

You take it from him and hold it like it’s a fragile bird and not a post-it note. 

"So I can see you again," he finishes. 

"Okay," you say, a little disbelievingly. You didn’t expect for this to go beyond a day or two — when they first knocked, you didn’t expect it to last longer than thirty minutes — but now that you’ve spent a few hours in their company, you’re relieved to know that at least one of them feels a connection too.

James leans down onto the bed, using his arms to prop himself up near your thighs and lean forward for a kiss. "I bet I can convince Cap to join us again."

"I hope so," you say, and look over your shoulder to see his reaction.

Steve doesn’t look back, he’s looking down at his hands fiddling in his lap, but he’s smiling.

The three of you get out of bed to get dressed, the two of them obviously putting on more layers than you. With just your panties and a thick, long sweater on, you walk over to the kitchenette to make them a few more sandwiches to eat on their way down the mountain. James and Steve talk quietly to each other, and this time, you’re not trying to eavesdrop on their conversation. From what little you gather, they’re discussing logistics and plans for once they are within communication range. You know they have to leave, you know they were never going to stay for long, but that doesn’t mean you want to hear them talk about it in such detail.

James comes over to your side, now completely covered in all of his gear except for his boots. "Wanna see us to the door?"

"Oh, of course." You hold out the sandwiches, wrapped in one of your clean dishtowels. "Even if you can’t stay, I still wanted to make you something."

James takes them from you, reverent of your simple parting gift, and you take a small breath of relief to see his appreciation.

He walks to the front door and bends to put on his boots. When he stands straight again, he says, "Call me, okay? I mean it." 

"Okay," you say, a little disbelievingly. You look to Steve, and he doesn’t yet look back as he puts on his jacket and then hooks the shield onto his back. 

When he looks up, you must seem expectant, because he smiles. "You haven’t heard the last of me," he says.

You nod, "Okay."

"Hey, um," James hesitates. "What’s your name? Though I’m happy to keep callin’ you 'angel.'" 

You blush to the color of a ripe tomato. "I didn’t tell you my name? And we did… all that? And you didn’t know my name?" You laugh, the sound bordering hysteria. 

"Tell us now," James smiles. 

You give them your name but your face remains flushed warm. 

Steve repeats your name softly, his face is bright, like it’s a gift to know. "Thank you for letting us stay with you."

"I’m so happy to have given you a place to stay, even for only a short while."

"We’ll be seeing you," James says, adding your name to really cement his intensions.

"Be seeing you."

"Good luck with your book, can’t wait to read the finished product," Steve says.

You smile. "Thank you. Be safe going down the mountain."

"We will." 

They open the door and leave without actually saying _Good-bye_. 

You like it that way.

You move over to the front window and open the curtain to watch them exit the clearing. At the very edge, they both turn back and look directly to you at the window — James smiles and Steve gives a little two-fingered salute — then they turn and walk out of sight.

As they disappear into the dense forest, you consider whether you will actually hear from them again. They’re busy and important men, after all. A month is a long time to forget about someone you’ve only known for a few hours. But there’s a stubborn little ember in your heart that won’t let you write them off entirely, that knows you should take the chance and call, even if it’s all for naught.

Until then, you have a book to write…but perhaps you can take the rest of the day off to journal today’s experience. Even if they forget, you won’t.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> As much as I like to daydream about running away to the woods to take my final form as a bog witch, there's no way I could live alone in such solitude and feel safe. I'm too much of a city girl.
> 
> For those of you who are wondering how this connects to the first part of this series, I promise I'll be updating with a new chapter soon and all will be explained! I always appreciate your patience as I perfect the story. (In the meantime, let me know what you think of this _seemingly_ stand-alone fic!)
> 
> Update, 21 September 2020: The corresponding chapter in the first part of the series has been posted! This story connects to [Chapter 21 of The Care and Feeding of Supersoldiers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16071620/chapters/64579342). Enjoy!


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